"Are you okay?" you asked, several seconds into our hug.

"...yes..." I answered. "Why?"

"You're holding me a lot tighter than you usually do."

I was so excited to be in your arms that I hadn't really noticed that I had thrown mine around you with a lot more enthusiasm than usual. Whoops! I had already opened my mouth to apologize when I felt you shifting your grip to pull me even closer. So what actually came out of my mouth was fueled by my flustered, fluttering brain and was a lot lamer than I would have wanted.

But you didn't seem to mind my inane babble.

And then you held me for a long, long time.

Why, oh why, can't such moments last forever?

Runnerbean,

You're not ever going to read this. You don't use tumblr. You use msn to wish me a happy birthday, or if you've been trapped by snow. Sometimes I wish it were the 60s, so there would be no internet, and you'd still be around 3,000 miles away, but we could write, and I could complain about how de Valera is always going to be around Ireland, and you could rant about that dang upstart Kennedy who doesn't wear hats. (Breakfast at Tiffany's would be showing at the pictures, and beehives and kitten heels would be acceptable casual wear - but that's not the point.) We'd also have the excuse of the Bomb meaning that it's now or never.

Obama doesn't wear hats either, and I hear kitten heels are back in vogue. Hmm. There's always 2012. It's now or never, really, isn't it?

— Call me Pristinearms.

four-eyes

I read a lot of letters on this site that mention how difficult cross-country/state/time zone distances are to handle. It makes me feel a bit guilty, because you're a ten minute walk away and that seems like light years. Hell, you could be sitting right next to me and it would be too far.

...it's really okay with me if you move a bit closer.

freckles

Dear Otaku Girl,

You shine brighter than the alleged sun in my abdomen that you like to snuggle up with.

Bonita, tu tienes mi corazon.

From,

The Computer Afficionado Boy

beautiful,

whenever you explain something to me, whenever you tell me a story, whenever you talk non-stop for a minute or two, half of my consciousness just watch how your eyes sparkle, how your lips move, and how your cheeks blush.

and the rest of me just plays it cool.

love,

funny the way it is

Dear him,

I'm typing this out while looking at you.

I wonder if you can tell how infatuated with you I really am?

I wonder if you ever wonder about me?

I wonder whether you know my name or not.

I wonder if typing this for all to see is healthy.

I wonder if you'll turn me down when I go over and ask you to a movie.....

Brb.

...

Score one for awkward girls everywhere.

Awkward little me.

"August,"

I loved you for as long as I remember, quite literally. I remember you helping me tie my shoes in kindergarten, and how I listened for your name during role call because I was too shy to ask it, how I would pray all through elementary school for you to randomly decide to sit with me at lunch, and when I put up with being enrolled in your mother's extracurricular art classes just because it meant a chance I might see you again, and when you were the only one in my entire life that protected me from the bullying and the ridicule.You are my hero, and I strive every day to be worthy of the love of someone like you.

You would be 26 now, if you were still alive. You died three years ago, and I never told you of my crush. I still love you to this day. I never so much as told you I liked you.

To everyone who has a crush, I assure you - YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE, AND EVERYTHING TO GAIN. Do not wait one more moment out of fear, anxiety, apprehension, uncertainty, or any other reason to tell someone how you feel. You never know if you'll have another opportunity.

To August - I would give my life to tell you how much your actions in life meant to me, how much you as a person meant to me, how much you changed and saved my life. I would give my life to know you are at peace wherever you are.

I love you.

"September"

dear chocolate cake,

i know you think i'm with cheesecake, but you're the only cake i want to eat. i could eat you for the rest of my life, honestly. you never get stale. you're not too sweet. and you have just the right amount of icing on you. i don't care if you're not my cake, darnit. i put the icing on; as far as i'm concerned, i can eat as much of you as i like. will you let me have you?

love, a hungry guy.

This letter is addressed to that old soul whose moment of inquisitiveness has developed into weeks and weeks of continuous conversation,

Poetic prose will always fall short in the face my affections, so I will keep this telegram short. I care about you very much.

Whenever it is that I see you, I would not object to being held for an indeterminate amount of time, (or to any other romantic gesture you might perform;) in fact, I might be entirely open to it. 

Try not to keep me wondering for too long. Hesitancy was the downfall of your predecessors. 

Fondly,

Her.

camera boy,

the awkward silences are the best. I wish I wasn't such a goon and could talk to you like I talk to everyone else. I'm not usually this shy and introverted, I swear! but the truth is, you're not like everyone else. I kinda sorta maybe love you a little. I'm sure you see right through me, but when you ask when I'll be around again, I hope you feel the same way.

— the ever hopeful maybe special me